


Aftermath

by Caori



Category: Mutafukaz | MFKZ
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Based on the movie, Domestic Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, PTSD, Pining, Trauma, Wicca, with only a little of inspiration from the comic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-12-26 23:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caori/pseuds/Caori
Summary: It's been months already. Time sure flies by, huh? Despite everything, life goes on just like it did before.Almost.Written for Inktober 2018, based on the movie.





	1. Poisonous

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of oneshots written for Inktober 2018... which I still haven't finished to write because those characters keep getting away from me. They can be read individually, but they DO follow a general plot, so it's better to read them all in order really.  
> Most of them were written in one setting, on days I would get into a hyperfocused state and do nothing but write for up to six hours straight. Food and water are overrated anyway.  
> I based them on the movie because, well for one I saw it before I read the comics... and I prefer the way the characters are depicted in the movie, sue me. Actually don't, I'm broke :P  
> Also, english isn't my mother tongue, so please tell me if I mess up on that aspect.
> 
> Anyway... enjoy I guess? (holy shit i can't believe i'm actually doing this, there is litterally NO mfkz fanfics out there i'm going to die-)

“Vinz.”

“Viiiiiiiiiinz.”

“What?”

“I found another one.”

The hothead sighted, bidding goodbye to his until now undisturbed binge-watching of the latest wrestling season, and glanced lazily at his roomate. “Y’know, you don’t have to tell me everytime one of your cockroaches dies. Living beings tend to do that –the dying thing–, so you should get used to it or something.”

Angelino was standing in the kitchen, cradling in his hand the unmoving body of one of his bug friends, with a serious expression Vinz rarely saw on the young man’s face.

Or any face for that matter. No one else but Lino had a black bowling ball for a head.

Said head turned to look at the literal discount Ghost-Rider lookalike sprawled on the living room couch. Concern shone in his bug-like eyes. “You don’t get it. They don’t do that, they never let themselves die out out on the open like that. This one fell right out of the fucking ceiling. I’m telling you man, shit’s not right.”

The skeleton rolled his eyes, bright yellow irises circling the pitch black sclarea. “Dude, seriously, they’re just dumb bugs. Let it go, I’m trying to watch the match.” he grumbled before turning back to the TV.

Angelino made a non-commital noise, a acid comment about how he had seen this one three times already, then by the sound of it left the apartment in a huff. At least he could watch the match in peace now, Vinz thought.

 

* * *

 

Angelino was a simple-minded person. As long as he and Vinz were safe (well, as safe as one could be in DMC) and they managed to pay rent most of the time, he didn’t ask for much in life. But something was out there killing his roaches. That he knew he couldn’t accept.

He wasn’t sure where his fondness for the moving, squirming army of dark insects was from. Maybe they reminded him of himself, just kind of stumbling on an unsteady, precarious life, feeding of society’s scraps and being a general parasite. Also pitch black skin and weird genetics, but he didn’t want to think about the cause of those. Nope. Not today, not ever.

 

In any case, he was pretty fucking pissed.

 

The hybrid went down the hallway, staying as quiet as he could to avoid confronting the other fascist fuck next door- He blinked. No, that wasn’t right. The guy was dead. Had been for months now.

He grunted, ignoring his brain’s attenpt at making him think about the circumstances of that event, and pressed on. Maybe getting some fresh air would calm him down. He snorted at the thought. Ha! Who was he kidding, nothing in this fucked up city was ever fresh.

But when he reached the top of the old and faded wooden stairs, he caught a whiff of something. Something unfamiliar. A grimace twisted his smooth features. Whatever that was, it smelled bitter and aggressive and _wrong_ , and it burned its way into his throat.

Using the hem of his Tigre t-shirt as a makeshift mask (a gift from Vinz, the guy was all over the buff feline wrestler), the young deadbeat stomped over to the cracked back wall, where the pungent smell was _definitely_ coming from. He peered into a crack, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the wall’s innards.

 

And _oh, oh holy shit,_ yeah that was it.

 

The wall was stuffed with some kind of dark purple paste. Angelino stumbled back and resisted the urge to empty his stomach here and there: the stench was so strong he doubted he would smell anything else for the rest of the day. Lino’s body was trembling in anger, his head filling with static; someone had put this shit in here, most likely the day before.

Right when his cockroaches started to die en masse.

He let out a growl and made a beeline for his apartment. He couldn’t take the stuff out of the wall, the thought alone made him gag and whatever fucker had done this could probably just do it again later. Closing up the hole would cut off the smell so he could cross the hallway again. But the bugs would still wander naively inside, unaware of the fate that awaited them. That couldn’t happen.

“It’s poison.” he snapped, kicking the apartment door open. Vinz turned towards him as he made his way inside, the skeleton frowning at his friend’s agitation. “Wazzat?”

“Poison, Vinz. Some motherfucker put that shit in the walls and it’s killing them and _fuck_ _I can still smell it-”_

“Woh, Lino, calm down!” Vinz interrupted, lifting his hands up in a placating gesture. “What’re you talking about? I went out his morning for my shift at Pipo’s and didn’t smell anything.”

Oh yeah, that was a thing too: since the… _incident_ a few months back, the hybrid often heard or smelled stuff that Vinz couldn’t for some reason. _You know the reason,_ his brain chimed in. _Shut the fuck up,_ Angel ino replied, faceplanting on the couch next to his roomate _._ “ Well _I_ did.” he groaned. “There’s purple goo in the wall, so I’m going to seal up that shit before the smell kills me instead.”

“What about the roaches?”

“I’ll teach ‘em not to touch the stuff.”

Vinz just stared at him. He closed his eye sockets and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose cavity. “Lino. Dude. Bro. They’re just bugs. You can’t teach them stuff.”

“They smart.” Angelino replied, voice muffled by the fabric of the couch. “They’ll figure it out.”

“So what, you’re just gonna start teaching them all what not to eat? _God_ this conversation is so fucking stupid-”

“Nah, don’t need to. I’ll just tell Henry, he can tell the others.”

Vinz knew he shouldn’t have asked. But he went and did it anyway. “Who’s Henry?”

Angelino lifted his head up with that shit-eating grin Vinz had learned to love. Hate. He meant hate. “He’s the alpha or some shit. They’ll listen to him, they respect him a lot. Nice guy, great leadership.”

Aaaaaand he broke Vinz. Who knew a skeleton could emote the “completely giving up” look so well. “Welp,” the hothead stated, getting off the couch, “this shit just got way too weird, I’m out. Have fun talking to your army of darkness.”

Lino snickered, watching his best friend take his leave. What a drama queen. “Thanks, I will.”


	2. Tranquil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lino and Vinz experience a rare moment of complete peace in the neighborhood. They revel in it while it lasts.

Rios Rosas wasn’t a quiet neighborhood by any means.

 

The constant traffic sound mixing honking and engines puffing, the ever present blaring of ambulance or police sirens, the greasy laughter of low-level thugs and the occasional gang shootouts… all the way to the hotel itself, with its lovely residents spending their time screaming, partying, fucking, and generally being a pain in the ass.

 

Suffice to say, the place was pretty fucking  _ lively _ . All those sounds mixing and mingling together in what a regular occupant would consider background noise at this point. 

 

A constant. Familiar. Almost comforting.

 

It doesn’t happen often, the place being freaking Dark Meat City. But when that constant disappears, even for just a moment, it’s like a heavy blanket falls on Rios Rosas. Soft, but suffocating if left there for too long.

 

When Lino’s ears start ringing from the deafening silence, he stops moving, the box of old, stale Froot Loops he was feeding his cockroaches with forgotten at his feet (“Lino c’mon, those are for us!” “What? They saved our asses once, the least we can do is feed them.” “Fuck them. And fuck you too.” “You wish~” “Eat shit Lino.”). He cocks his head to the right and lets his eyes close, silent.

Vinz blinks, trying to figure out what just went missing. And when he does, he turns around and stares through the living room window.

 

They don’t talk. They don’t think. Even the usual pattering of thousands of bugs from hell has stopped.

 

For a little while, they’re just… existing. Two living beings like any other. No hope, no fear, no responsibilities. It’s just quiet. And it feels nice, kinda.

 

And then the spell is broken by the honking of a truck and the rude bellowing of its driver, something about damn kids jaywalking. The blanket’s lifted, and the two roommates start breathing again. Vinz makes a sniffing sound and squints. 

“Lino… did you leave the stove on?”

“... FUCK!”

 

Then life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a lot of headcannons on these two. One of them being that they both can't cook for shit.  
> Well, in Vinz' case it's pretty much canon anyway...


	3. Roasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vinz burns dinner. Again.

To Vinz, there were a few advantages to having a literal flaming skull for a head. One of them was the lack of lacrimal glands.

Now that didn’t mean he couldn’t cry. He didn't remember how he came to be, and he didn’t know how his strange physiology worked. But experience had showed that despite his “condition”, he could cry, bleed, and emote in ways a regular old skeleton couldn’t.

_“Must be some voodoo shit.”_ Lino once said to him. _“Doesn’t matter anyway, right? You’re Vinz, you’re my friend. Who cares where you come from.”_

Vinz’ face shifted in an expression of happiness, his flames taking a bright yellow tint. His roommate always knew what to say to stop him from obsessing over his origins. Maybe he’d find out the truth one day. Hell, if shapeshifting, cold-sensitive aliens were a thing, magic could be real for all he knew. Maybe he’ll look into it.

He shook himself out of his reverie. Right, he was done cutting the onions, now he just had to put them in the oven with the fish and potatoes. He had to practice the actual cooking part of cooking if he wanted to keep his job at Pipo’s.

He closed the oven door,  squinting at the recipe displayed on his phone:  _ “Bake at 425 for about 30 minutes until filets are opaque and flakey.  _ Okay, sounds simple enough.”

He glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. Angelino would be back from the sushi place anytime now, thirty minutes just weren't gonna cut it. The fish had to cook faster somewhat.

He let out a hum. Maybe he could cut the baking time in half if he doubled the temperature?

 

_...Yeah, sounds legit. _

 

* * *

 

Vinz heard the distinct sound of the front door unlocking about ten minutes later. “Hey,” he greeted, taking his eyes off the TV as his roommate made his way inside. “So how did’t go?”

Angelino greeted him back and flopped into the couch next to him. “T’was fine. I might actually have a shot this time.”

“Nice. How’s the joint?”

The hybrid smiled, bumping his shoulder against Vinz’s. “Pretty good. The boss and hours seem nice enough, and I’ll get an actual bike for the deliveries.” His smile widened, turning smug. “The waitresses are hot, too.”

Vinz ignored the brief twisting in his guts. “Yeah?”

“Yup. I think they like me. Called me  _ kurobetta _ .”

“Wazzat mean?”

“Dunno, black-something. I’ll look it up later.”

The hothead rolled his eyes, playfully elbowing his friend _. _ “Whatever, Don Juan. Anyway, you hungry? I made fish, should be ready in a few.”

Lino’s head tilted to the right, his gaze focusing somewhere above Vinz’s flaming skull. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that why the oven’s smoking?”

“Wha-”

Vinz almost snapped his neck to look behind him; thick black smoke was pouring out of the oven and gathering under the kitchen ceiling. He eyes widened, yellow irises reduced to bright pinpricks. “Holy shit!”

“Yeah, I smelled it when I got into the building, but I didn’t say anything cuz I thought you were handling it-”

“Shut up and open the window!” the skeleton shrieked, bolting towards the kitchen. He grabbed the oven handle, yanked it open, and  _ wow okay that’s a lot of smoke.  _ Good thing his eyes weren’t really affected by stuff like this. His throat, however…

He stumbled back into the living room hacking his lungs out, wondering how he managed to fuck up such as simple as grilled fish. Lino was standing in front of the open window, his inky black face a mix of amusement and concern. But mostly amusement. “You still suck at cooking, Vin.”

Vinz glared at him. “Shut up,” he wheezed, “And don’t call me that. If you call me Vin, I’m calling you, like,  _ Angel  _ or something.”

Angelino just beamed. “Are you saying I’m heavenly? What a charmer.”

The hothead groaned and turned away, flames turning a lovely shade of green. “Ugh, forget it. I’m going to check the damage.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t look good. In fact, it looked as good as the charred remains of a fish corpse could. Which was not good at all.

“Damn.” said Lino, peering over his shoulder. “What’d that fish do to you?”

Vinz sighted. “That was supposed to be dinner. We don’t have anything else.” The fridge was empty and the deli was definitely closed by now.  _ Great, just great. _

Angelino hummed. “Must be  _ something _ left. Lemme check.”

The young man went for the cupboards while his bony roommate mourned over his culinary failure. At the third cupboard he went still, his brain trying to process the information. After a few second, he chuckled and turned to Vinz with a devious glint in his eyes. “Hey Vinz! Do we have skewers or something?”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe this.”

“Sure you can. Hold still, this one’s not done yet.”

Vinz sat cross-legged on the floor, his back propped up against the couch. And on said couch was his best friend, holding marshmallow skewers above his skull. Using his flames as a makeshift barbecue. 

This was… kind of humiliating.

“You owe me for this. Big time.” he grumbled, munching on his chocolate-free, crackers-free s’more.

Lino shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who burned our food. I appreciate the attempt dude, I really do, but you need to stop before you get us killed in a fire. ”

The skeleton huffed, choosing to focus on the shitty B-movie playing in front of him.  _ Whatever _ . One day he’d manage to cook something edible. 

Maybe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vinz' flames are so weird. Most of the time they don't do shit, but sometimes they actually burn. Make up you damn mind Run!  
> So for this story I'm assuming he can actually choose if they burn or not, and he can lose control of them in certain circumstances.


	4. Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vinz gets into Wicca. Lino doesn't get it.

Vinz sat on the hotel roof, legs dangling over the edge, humming a heady tune he’d probably heard in a deli somewhere. He squinted at the book next to him and gave a critical look to the paper strip in his hand. Nah, that wasn’t it.

He interrupted his pen-chewing session and added a few lines here and there, straightening a curve or two and  _ oh _ , right, that triangle was supposed to go there-

“Whatcha doing?”

“ACK!”

Vinz jumped about a feet into the air and dropped the pen, who bounced off the shingles and swayed teasingly over the abyss, before succumbing to cruel gravity a second later.

 

RIP pen, he would be dearly missed.

 

Vinz turned around to glare at his cackling roommate, hand clutching his El Diablo shirt against his ribcage. “Dude!” he shrieked, “Don’t do that, I almost fell!”

“No you didn’t.” Lino shrugged, taking a seat next to his best friend. “Why are you on the roof anyway? That’s kinda my spot, y’know.”

“... Your spot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, you don’t  _ own  _ the freakin-”

Vinz quietened, only now processing the implication behind Angelino’s words. “Wait a minute, does that mean coming up there is a habit of yours?”

His friend blinked at him, surprised by the outburst. He scratched his neck. “...Maybe?”

“But when? I never see you leave the flat when I’m around.”

Lino stared at his lap, naked black feet rocking back and forth over the edge. He looked uncomfortable. “I just… come up here when you’re at work? The air’s a bit less polluted here, it’s nice.” he mumbled, before brutally switching back to his usual demeanor and elbowing him in the ribs. “So anyway! What’s with that weird symbol?” he asked, pointing at the slip of paper in the skeleton’s lap.

Whatever questions Vinz wanted to ask were immediately swept away by his excitement. Flames burning bright with pride, he showed off his work to his companion. “It’s a magic sigil!”

A heavy pause. Angelino slowly lowered his gaze on the black lines and dots adorning the paper. “... A magic what?”

Vinz let out an excited  _ ooh  _ and grabbed the book at his side, almost shoving it in Lino’s face. “A sigil! See, it’s a magical symbol you can draw on pretty much anything, there’s thousands of em and they all have different meanings and mine right here means  _ my friends are protected _ so if you keep it with you it’ll keep you safe and-”

Vinz took a deep breath before he could pass out from lack of oxygen.

“-so yeah! They’re pretty neat, don’t you think?”

Angelino just stared at him. He briefly took note of the book’s title ( _ “Wiccan spells and sigils for beginners”... Where did he even find that?)  _ before looking back at his friend’s over-eager face.

“... Suuuuuure.” he drawled. “Magic drawings. Awesome. What about that stuff over there?” he continued, pointing to a pile of weird herbs and colorful stones a few feet away, next to the pile of blank paper sheets.

Vinz nodded knowingly. “Oh, I use those to charge the sigils. They need natural energy to work, and gems are a good vessels for that kind of craft.”

The young deadbeat hummed, taking a good look at the pile of gemstones glistening in the afternoon sun. He smiled and gave Vinz a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t get it. I really don’t, all that magic stuff just sounds like nerdy crap.” He turned away and looked up at the city, taking in the familiar (if a bit shitty) sight. “But if you believe in that stuff, whatever man. You do you.”

Vinz looked mildly disappointed in his friend’s scepticism, but quickly shrugged it off. “A’right, I’ll take it. I just found this book at a flea market and found it interesting, there was a few others about fire spirits and stuff…”

Lino lifted an eyebrow. “Vinz-”

“I swear I wasn’t being obsessive about my origins again!” the hotheat quicky blurted. “I just- there’s some weird stuff out there. Aliens, black matter stuff?”

He cautiously waited for Angelino’s reaction. When he got none, he pressed on. “I’m just saying, if those are a thing now… why not magic? The guys from the Lucha Ultima had some supernatural shit going on too, so-”

“Okay, okay!” the hybrid interrupted, raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming fashion. “I get it. Maybe magic’s a thing, fine. I sure can’t prove it’s not.” He got up and dusted off his dark blue pants. “And you’re right, the world got really fucking weird lately.”

He stretched up his limbs towards the sky, his shirt lifting up and revealing the pale, thick scar barring his right hip. “So I guess magic plants and magic stones aren’t that big of a, heh,  _ stretch _ .”

Vinz groaned. “God your puns are terrible.”

The other smirked. “Don’t you mean-” He grabbed a blank piece of paper and slowly cut it in half. “- _ tearable _ ?”

“Whelp, time to throw myself off the roof now! Bye Lino, t’was nice knowing ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That particular sigil actually means "my loved ones are protected".  
> Yep. That tag ain't here for nothing.
> 
> Also my Lino likes making puns now? Like I said, I write those in one setting without thiking, so stuff comes out randomly and i keep them if i like it.
> 
> Regarding magic and stuff like that in that story... well, given what we see in the franchise and in the Puta Madre spinoff, there's definitely supernatural stuff going on, so I assume that some characters in this universe have ties to it. Vinz gets into it because he strikes me as a nerd for some reason? And I mean he's a FLAMING, TALKING SKULL so there's got to be some magic at play here. I'm already deviating from canon anyway, who cares im making my own rules now :P  
> I also want to add that i don't know much about wicca, i just think it's a very interesting practise/religion/whatever you consider it as. I probably would've commited myself more to it if i had the time.


	5. Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lino got a decent job as a japanese food delivery guy. But a week into the job, something triggers painful memories.

The sidewalk was barely visible under inches and inches of red and gold leaves. A chill ran down Angelino’s spine and he zipped up his jacket a little more; while he was grateful that the suffocating heat of summertime DMC was finally gone (no more gross, irritable old men sunbathing in front of the building, fuck yeah!), the next few months would apparently be colder than they had in almost twenty years.

The hybrid pursed his lips. Guess he’d finally have to invest in actual winter gear if he didn’t want to literally  _ die _ .

Having reached his destination after a round of grumbling about the inflation and shopping and  _ seriously fuck those greedy salesmen who shit all over retail workers _ , he pushed open the think red wood door and made his way into _Hinode's_. As usual, he was immediately assaulted by the obnoxious music (you know, the one that sounds so stereotypically asian it’s hard not to think White People™ own the place? Yeah, that one.), the harsh ringing of the opening bell and the dozen of sickly sweet smells mingling together.

So yeah, his workplace unnerved him a bit. But the pay and the people were decent, so he wasn’t complaining. He spent most of his shifts delivering all over the place anyway.  _ And _ he got to ride on a sweet-ass bike! Goodbye Vespa, hello Honda.

A booming voice shook him out of his thoughts; the owner was enthusiastically waving at him. “Hey there shortstuff!” he greeted, as a few staff members politely followed suit. “How’s that job treating you so far?”

Angelino resisted the use to roll his eyes at the middle aged man’s antics. His boss was nice enough, took his employee’s well being seriously -a rare quality in DMC- but  _ god _ was he patronizing. Guess being a five feet tall,  _ literal  _ illegal alien didn’t help his own case.

“Hi boss.” he nodded. “ 's fine, thanks for asking.”

Sitting in an armchair next to the counter was an old woman he didn’t recognize, though given the way Mr Hinode’s daughters were fussing over her, she was probably family. The owner followed Lino’s gaze and smacked his forehead. “Right, where are my manners! This is my mother.” He added something in japanese that Lino didn’t quite catch, but his name was definitely in there.

“Ah,” the old woman smiled warmly, turning to look at the delivery boy. Her pitch black eyes seemed to hold more knowledge than one could accumulate in a lifetime. “Kurobetta.”

The hybrid blinked. There was that nickname again. He still didn’t know how to feel about people basically calling him a fish, but there wasn’t a hint of malice in the elder's soft voice, so he’d take it as a compliment. Bettas were good fighters after all. “Uh… hi. Nice to meet you… ma’am?” he tried. Was he supposed to use a specific honorific? God he sucked at social cues. His job could be on the line there!

But the elderly woman just chuckled and addressed his son joyfully. “She likes you.” his boss translated, approvingly. “Says you’re a brave young man with a good heart.”

“Uh-huh.” Not sure how she could tell with just one glance, but okay.  _ “Grandma powers.”  _ Lino assumed.

“Anyway,” Mr Hinode stated before disappearing in a back room, “enough chit-chat, back to business! Kid, there’s a few orders already packed up and your bike’s good to go.”

The former pizza boy nodded and walked up to the counter to get his helmet. But just as he took a first step towards the kitchen-

 

“You’ll find her someday.”

 

He froze. Slowly turning around to face Mrs Kyouko, he saw her eyes twinkling with amusement. Fondness?

“Do not give up hope.” she said softly, with an almost  _ cheeky  _ smile. “You are a lucky young man. They both really care about you.”

 

Then she turned away and started knitting.

 

He… really didn’t know how to respond to that. Half his instincts were screaming at him to run. Because she just _couldn’t_ know about him or Luna, she couldn’t, and why “them”, _who else knew about him that he didn't know about?_ But the woman radiated _trustworthiness_. Lots of mixed signals going on.

So he just stayed silent and still for a few seconds. When it was clear she wasn’t going to indulge him with any explanation -fuck that cryptic and mysterious shit old people liked to do-, he took a careful step back and slowly made his way to the packages waiting in the kitchen. He’d deal with this later; for now, he had a job to do.

 

* * *

 

The half-alien jumped off the sleek dark grey bike and hanged his helmet on the handle. He stretched, letting out a strained grunt.  _ “Okay” _ , he thought,  _ “just one more delivery and I’m good to go. Hope I can make it home before nightfall.” _

 

And by that he meant “before all the thugs in Rios Rosas suddenly decide it’s hunting season”.

 

The entrance bell chimed as he pushed Hinode’s door open for the last time this evening, yawning; he was getting pretty tired. Maybe he’d actually get a few hours of sleep tonight. His boss’ youngest daughter was standing in the entrance. She waved at him, holding her uniform under one arm. “ ‘betta!” she chirped, “Hi! Did you just finish your shift?”

Lino couldn’t help but smile. With her petite physique and jet black pigtails, she kinda reminded him of Luna. Icy cold and burning heat slashed through his chest at the thought, but that particular pain wasn’t an unwelcome one. He shrugged it off. “Almost. Just one trip left.”

The girl hummed. “Well, I’m starting mine soon, so I’ll just go and get changed. See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

She said goodbye and disappeared into a back room while the hybrid entered the kitchen area. A few cardboard boxes wrapped in thin, crinkly plastic bags were waiting for him on the counter. He checked the address in the package; huh, wasn’t too far. He’d be home before he knew it.

But before he could grab the cheap, lukewarm packs of food, he heard a weird sound coming from the left. He turned around, and found himself staring into the empty eyes of a chicken.

Iit was surprisingly small for a slaughter animal. Inky black feathers, bright gold beak, wings tied to his body and legs bound by white coong string. Angelino frowned, confused. What was that scrawny-looking mess doing here? Was it emergency food supply? A pet? ...No, a pet wouldn’t be tied up like this. He spotted the long, heavy kitchen knife just next to the bird. Yeah okay, that little guy was definitely meeting its maker tonight. But why would anyone bother to cook this thing?

The delivery boy scoffed and turned his back on the chicken, grabbing the first bag.  _ Who cares, it’s just a dumb bird and I want to go home. _

But then it made that noise again. A very low, slow cackle that holded way more meaning than a bird with a pin-sized brain should be able to express. “ _ What?”  _ Lino snapped, almost cracking his neck to glare at the dumb thing. Great, now he was arguing with a fucking  _ chicken _ . He really needed some sleep.

The bird was staring at him, silent once more. It wasn’t moving, wasn’t struggling against its binds, but somehow Lino could begin to feel its raw  _ panic, fear, confusion, so much confusion- _

 

_ He was strapped to a cold metal chair, dangling above a gaping black void. Everything around him was dark except for the the dozens of giant screens around him, their harsh light making his head hurt. _

 

He let go of the bag, letting it crash on the floor. Breathing fast, too fast. Why was he back  _ there _ ?  


 

_ The straps are too tight, his arms are numb. The electrodes on his head sting and burn as he fights against that voice, that liquid velvet voice, telling him a truth he didn’t want to hear. _

 

His vision swarms. He was no idea what’s happening and his legs are trembling, he can’t run, he can’t even stay upright-

 

_ “Kill him.” it says, “Kill him, and take your rightful place.” And he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t, but the voice is everywhere, it’s inside him and the r e  i s n o e s c a p e _

 

He drops to his knees, a keening sound escaping his throat. The music and the smells are too much. Blacks dots dance in his vision and all he can think about is  _ Vinz Vinz where’s Vinz I need to find Vinz don’t want Vinz to die must keep Vinz safe- _

 

Angelino can’t process the sensation of his arm being gently grabbed, nor the fact that he’s being led somewhere on wobbly legs. And when the smells and the sound gradually disappear and a cold breeze make him shiver, his breathing slows down and the world stops spinning.

He blinks. He’s outside now. He’s not at the compound, he’s not tied up, and the threat of imminent death isn’t hovering over his head. He’s just… there. In Hinode’s inner courtyard. Alone.

The hybrid lets out a shaky breath, leaning into the cold wall behind him. His whole body is sore, like he just run a marathon. Whatever  _ that  _ was, he’d completely black out from it. Someone could’ve easily killed him back there, and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was pretty sure  _ someone  _ had found him freaking out and brought him here and he couldn’t remember who. That’s how out of it he was.

Now, Angelino was familiar with nightmares. He had those often since the Incident. He was used to waking up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, praying he was quiet enough not to wake his roomate. Spending the rest of the night on the hotel roof until the first rays of sunlight hit his clammy skin, coming back down just in time before Vinz noticed.

 

Nightmare he could deal with. But that shit right there? That was dangerous. 

 

Guess the old lady earlier brought everything back to the surface. And he’d spent so much time burying all that shit under layers and layers of denial, what a waste. Maybe he’s take his best friend up on his offer about sigils and shit... He winced, rubbing his temples; he had a monster headache. He’d have to get more painkillers on the way home.

Home. It was getting dark, Vinz was waiting for him and he had to get home. But first…

“SHIT, THE FOOD!”

The halfling left the courtyard and stomped down the hallway, entering the kitchen once more. He quickly gathered the now cold boxes -thank god the one he dropped hadn’t spilled. 

The bird was still there, still silent and still following his every move. Angelino groaned and prayed to whatever higher power was in charge today that he wouldn’t get caught doing this.

 

* * *

 

“You did  _ what? _ ”

“Freed it. You know that old ruin a few blocks away? It’s already overrun by weeds and ducks, so I brought it there after my shift.”

He kept his eyes on the match, munching on . Vinz was staring at him in disbelief. “So let me get this straight. You grew a sudden interest for animal welfare and decided to save that bird from certain death.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just like that.”

“Yup.” 

That was totally what had happened. Nothing weird about liberating a being that looked suspiciously like you right after having the panic attack of the century. Nope.

Vinz rolled his eyes. He was gonna get himself stuck if he kept doing it so often. “You do know that thing will probably be eaten by a fox by the morning?”

Angelino shrugged. “At least now it has a fighting chance.” _ “I didn’t.” _

 

That last part was left unsaid.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo things got out of control, i’m litteraly making this shit up as i go and i hadn’t planned Fortune Cookie Grandma/Nice Madam Gao over here to exist. At all. But there she is and it completely threw my schedule out the window. Oh well.


	6. Drooling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vinz wakes up in the middle of the night and figures some stuff out.

_ His mind is. Blank. _

_ Everything is. Warm. Soft. Quiet. _

_ Like. Cotton. Cotton everywhere. Safe. So warm.  _

_ Feels nice. Like floating. In warm water. But not wet. _

 

_ Warmth _ .

 

…

 

_ Not so quiet anymore. Weird sound. Like. Scratching? Rain? The fuzz is leaving his brain.  
_

 

Vinz stirred and cracked his eye sockets open, fuzzy, unfocused yellow irises appearing in his sclera; oh, okay, he’d been asleep. Dammit, he’d been so comfy…

The noise was clearer now. The walking fire hazard groaned and blinked his surroundings into focus: yep, that was a ceiling. The flat’s. Wild.

His whole body was leaning on the living room’s couch, about half buried under a light grey blanket. It was dark, the patch of pitch black, moon-free sky casting no light through the window. But a harsh light was coming from his left. As did the noise, he noticed. He turned his head towards the disturbance and blinked. _Oh_. He’d fallen asleep with the TV still on, and now it only broadcasted static and white noise.  Well. _ That’ll teach me to try and binge-watch a whole season that shitty buddy-cop show. _

He sighted tiredly and tried to reach for the remote.  _ Must’ve fallen somewhere... _

The hothead felt around the covers, running his fingers along the soft fabric and _wait_ _ that wasn’t fabric.  _ “What the-”

He propped himself up on his elbows and was met with- okay, he needed a minute there.

Angelino. His 8-ball headed roommate  _ slash _ best friend. Completely passed out. With his head on his lap.

...

His flames took a greenish tint. Well, this was mildly embarrassing. But it was fine, he could deal with this.

Vinz shifted around the couch, trying to get upright without rousing Lino; he’d come home more tired than usual the day before, something painful showing on his bug-eyed face. Vinz hadn’t asked, but he knew the guy was dealing with a lot of shit and desperately needed his rest, even if he tried really hard to hide it.

He finally managed to sit up, his roommate’s head now resting on his legs. He hadn’t stirred at all. Vinz didn’t know whether that should concern or relieve him; seeing him so still and silent was kinda jarring. He hadn’t seen him this unresponsive since their escape from the alien facility, when he’d been unconscious for three days straight.

Angelino wasn’t exactly a quiet sleeper; always tossing and turning, mumbling nonsense, occasionally snoring.

 

Keening and gasping for air when the nightmares came.

 

Yeah, he knew about those. Woke him up more times than he could count. He usually pretended to still be asleep to avoid putting his best friend on the spot, figuring he needed space to deal with it on his own. Hence his nightly trips on the hotel roof, he supposed.

But the nightmares had become more frequent over the past few weeks and Vinz was getting worried. The hybrid’s eyes were getting duller, lacking focus, and his usual ink black skin was starting to get an ashen tint.

 

To put it simply, Angelino wasn’t okay and needed help. And now, mulling over it in the dead of night with his best friend drooling on his lap, Vinz realized that much.

 

“Shit, Lino…” he sighted, gazing sadly at his roommate. There were bags under his eyes, how had he not noticed that before? “I’m such a shit friend. I’m sorry.”

The half-alien remained unresponsive. Figures.

He’d seen the signs and he had ignored them. With his fucking selfishness and his dumb  _ feelings that made his stomach churn everytime Lino smiled- _

No. None of that right now. He had to keep himself together, if only for his friend. He had to be there for him without making it obvious, or else Angelino would probably shut him out, the stubborn bastard.

Hah. He was in for a loooong streak of special Angelino-brand denial, wasn’t he. Vinz tried to get comfortable again and closed his eye sockets, breathing evening out, darkness edging at his consciousness; he just hoped he’d get to him before he really got hurt.

 

In this place no-one could see, two living beings breathed in sync. Safe for now.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes hello i’d like to get a dentist appointment please, i think i got 38 cavities from writing this  
> this is 100% self-indulging fluff, dont mind me


	7. Exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelino’s been plagued by nightmares and can’t function properly. Vinz is worried.

“- so that’s how I learned that you don’t put metal in a microwave. Pipo was pretty mad after that one.”

“Uh-huh.”

The sky was clear today, so the two deadbeats had decided to go out and wander the city’s not too deadly neighbourhoods. 

...Well, they weren’t exactly deadbeats, cuz they both had jobs now and everything, but they were still pretty useless overall.

“I mean, the guys acts like an asshole whenever I fuck up, but he still hasn’t fired me, y’know? I think he actually likes having me around for some reason.” Vinz continued, sipping his cheap, watery coffee. “That’s nice.” Angelino replied dully.

The hothead didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then turned around to search his friend’s face. He frowned.

“... also, your mom’s a hoe.”

“Mh-hm.”

“You’re not listening to me, are you.”

 

And  _ now _ he got a reaction. The hybrid looked at him with that expression kids wear when they get caught cheating in class. “What? No way dude, I was!”

His hotheaded roommate just rolled his eyes with a huff. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He gazed up at his friend for a moment, taking in the dark circles around his large eyes. He held up his cup in front of him. “Want some bean juice? You look like you could use it.”

A pause. Lino blinked. “...Really?  _ ‘Bean juice’ _ ?” he deadpanned.

“What? It is bean juice, technically.”

“Screw that. Coffee’s gross anyway.”

“Your loss.”

 

* * *

 

“ ‘betta, why are you staring at the fishes?“

Angelino stared at Ayame, then back to the water tank where about a dozen koi carps were swimming. Gliding so gracefully it almost looked like they were flying.  _ So fucking majestic.  _

Back to the girl, then back to them. “... I have no idea. What was I supposed to do again?”

The waitress sighted, glancing worriedly at the delivery boy. “Four. Four orders downtown. Is everything okay? Do you need a break?”

The young man teared his eyes away from the water, confused. “I’m fine. Why'd I need a break?”

“Because you’ve been tripping over your own feet all evening?”

“I’ll be more careful!”

“You apologized to the door when you slammed into it earlier.”

Lino tilted his head to the side; so  _ that  _ was why it had hurt so much. Ayame crossed her arms in annoyance. “Look, I know you’re an adult and all, and I don’t want to patronize you, I’m not Pops. But you look like hell.”

“Sheesh, thanks…”

“I’m serious. It’s okay to take a break if you’re not well, you know?”

The hybrid groaned, rubbing at his temples. _Ugh_ _.  _ “ ’s fine. Got a lot on my plate right now, but I’m okay. Can we move on? Still got grub to deliver, and bills to pay.”

 

* * *

The next evening, when Vinz came home from his shift at Pipo’s, he barely had the time to spot Lino’s short, dark form rushing out of their flat-

“Lino, what the-”

“NOTIMEGOTTAGOTOWORKSEEYALATERBYE!”

-before disappearing down the stairs. The hothead blinked owlishly. That… was weird. Like, above their usual weirdness levels. He cautiously made his way inside, throwing his coat haphazardly on a chair. That’s when he got the whiff of a familiar, earthy scent.

_ “...Coffee beans.” _ he mused blandly. Huh. He thought Lino hated coffee.

 

...

 

“Oh  _ hell _ no he didn’t-”

He rushed into the kitchen; the coffeemaker was still on, dripping droplets of brown liquid every so often. A few empty mugs were lying on the table, some of them tipped over.

And the sugar box was out. Emptied.

 

“Fuck.”  This wouldn't end well.

 

* * *

 

Vinz’s phone started vibrating in his pocket less than two hours later. Tearing his eyes away from the  _ Sharknado 3 _ rerun, he took it out and squinted at the screen; okay, it was pretty badly cracked but he could still-

_ Oh _ .  _ Oooh, fuck me gently with a pitchfork. _ He was going to kill this stubborn fucker.

He picked up and spoke before Ayame could open her mouth. “Okay, how bad is it.”

Yeah, so he and the waitress had bonded over Wicca stuff and exchanged tips sometimes, sue him.

_ “How did you- nevermind. He ran around like a headless chicken for about two hours before he crashed into a stack of porcelain plates and passed out.” _

Vinz froze, pupils shrunk to mere yellow pinpricks. He jumped off the couch, running to grab his keys. “Shit! He okay?”

_ “Yeah, the shards missed him. He’s really out of it though, so he’s on a mat in a back room right now. Think you can come and pick him up?” _

Vinz took a deep breath, heading for the apartment door. Thank god Lino hadn’t been driving. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.” 

He hung up, locked the door behind him, and ran.  


 

* * *

Vinz  _ carried _ him home more than he walked him. The streets weren’t so crowded now that the chill was settling in, so navigating through the city wasn’t the hell it usually was. Thank fuck for that.

“Viiiiiiiiinzzzz.”

“What?”

“ ‘ffffuck happened?”

The hothead sighted. He was doing that a lot lately. 

When he had come bursting into Hinode’s, Angelino had been puking his guts out for over ten minutes and Aya looked ready to strangle someone. The girl just shoved Lino into his face and hissed something like “please don’t let this idiot die from his stupidity” before basically kicking them out.

Damn. Ayame was a sweet gal, but when she cared, she cared  _ hard _ and she wouldn’t take no shit from anyone. Look like she was done with Lino’s shenanigans.

“You’re a dumbass.” he deadpanned, ignoring the passerby’s stares. They were almost home. “That’s what happened. The fuck were you thinking?”

The hybrid seemed to think about his answer. “Seemed” being the keyword here. “... sounded like good idea…”

“Of course it did. You always think you have genius ideas, but dude, face it, they suck. You’re a flaming trash pile of bad decisions.”

Lino snorted at that, before sobering up and looking down at the ground. “...m’sorry.”

Vinz slowed down. He turned towards his roommate and searched his face, curious. “For what? Don’t worry about the mess in the kitchen, we’ll clean that up later.”

“M’sorry… for being so fucked up.”

 

They stopped. The hothead stayed silent, attentive. A floodgate had been open and words kept falling out of the half-alien’s mouth. “I’m a fucking mess, I know, I hate it but I can’t stop it. They keep coming back every fucking night and it’s driving me insane. I don’t deserve this shit, I don’t want it, every time I close my eyes it’s like I’m  _ there _ again, and, and, and-”

“Wow, hey, slow down.” Vinz gently cut him off. “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me about it. You really don’t.”

Lino stared at him. His eyes were blown wide with panic, shame, complete and utter  _ exhaustion _ . Vinz couldn’t bear seeing  _ that _ look on  _ this  _ face, and he wanted it gone.

“I don’t care what you say or think. You’re my best friend, and you’re not broken.” He squeezed the hybrid’s shoulder. “We’re all damaged, hell, who in this fucked up city isn’t? Whatever shit you’re dealing with, you don’t have to go through it alone, yeah?”

He lets go. Takes a deep breath. Meet Lino’s gaze and  _ holds it. _ “I’m here. Okay? You're here, I’m here. Together, always. Remember that?”

 

Angelino looked at him, expression unreadable. After a few seconds, a weak smile lighted up his inky, strained, sleep-deprived face. “... yeah, I guess.”

“Good.” Vinz stated, resuming his walk at a brisk pace, his roomate’s arm draped over his shoulders.

 

* * *

It’s dark.

Vinz is slowly dozing off, curled up in the faded armchair, when he hears a familiar gasp. He doesn't move, he doesn’t make a sound; he waits.

A few seconds of haggard breathing, finally slowing down to a manageable rate. Silence.

Then the sound of shuffling, the unsure  pit-pats of naked feet on the wooden floor, coming closer. A gentle touch on his shoulder. “Vinz. You awake?”

He opens his eye sockets and spots a sheepish, tired-looking Angelino. He’s scratching the scar on his hip, something he's been doing a lot lately. “Yeah man. What’s up?” the hothead patiently replies.

The halfling clutches his right arm, hesitant, before answering. “... I wanna watch TV for a bit. That okay?”

Vinz shrugs casually, but his inner self is screaming sweet victory. “Sure.”

 

* * *

“-but then the actor died in the middle of the shooting, so they replaced him with his masseuse for the rest of the flick. Problem was, the guy looked nothing like him, so they had him cover his face with the cape everytime he was onscreen, but even with that it’s so obvious!” Vinz explained enthusiastically, laughing at the hilarious special effects of the movie.

Angelino pursed his lips. “I don’t get it. If it’s so bad, why do people enjoy watching these?”

His roomate mulled over it for a minute. “...I’m not sure, but I think it’s cuz the people who made it tried so hard to make it good, but it still ended up shit. And it’s so fucking funny to see all the actors take everything so seriously, y'know?”

The hybrid shrugged, sinking deeper into the loveseat next to the hothead. “Not really, but whatever.”

Vinz fondly elbows him and draws his attention back to  _ Plan 9 from Outer Space.  _ He shook his head; Ed Wood _had_ to be a misunderstood genius.

 

Only a few minutes later, he felt something fall onto his shoulder. He didn’t need to turn around to know Lino was out cold, his slow breathing was proof enough.

 

Vinz smiled, letting his skull fall back on the couch with a sigh. Time to join his friend into sweet oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why does everything i write turns out three times as long as planned i want to die haha


	8. Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelino gets bopping.

Sundays were boring, rainy ones even more so. Not that both Vinz and Angelino usually cared much about going outside, but still.

So here they were, the skeleton mindlessly scribbling down some runes (“What’re those for?” “Mostly wealth and productive energy. I was hoping Pipo could give me a raise soon…” “Heh, right, like _that_ ’d happen.”) while his hybrid friend kept mashing the TV remote, flicking from channel to channel in search for something other than shitty reality shows.

Angelino grunted. “Fucking commercials everywhere. We get it, we’re broke, stop getting up in our faces about it!”

“Try to find a cooking show or something.” Vinz suggested, not tearing his eyes away from his work.

His roomate smirked. “Ramsay roasting the shit out of people _is_ hilarious, but I don’t feel like being shown fancy food I could never have.” He sighted, flopping sideways into the couch, and kept mashing the remote. The hothead next to him made a frustrated noise and glared at him.

“Dude, stop moving so much! You made me mess up that line! Now it won’t work!"

"Aw, did I… _ruin your rune_?"

"UUUUURGH. I’m going on the roof. Don’t let the roaches eat my cereal this time.”

Vinz picked up his stuff, bitching about cheap puns and esotherical shit, then left the flat flipping Lino off. The other responded in kind, snorting.

The half-alien dragged his attention back to the TV and lost his smile. Right there on the screen was a familiar brown, humanoïd bat, showing off his gold collar and tacky sunglasses, in the middle of overly sexualized women. He was… singing, maybe? Something about money and whatever element he’d picked in the periodic table this time.

Angelino groaned in annoyance. Really? Willy _still_ hadn’t gone down from his fame rush? _“Whatever. Give it a few more weeks and his crew will kick him to the sidewalk.”_ he thought.

That was one of this universe’s laws, a constant: nobody could stand the whiny, cowardly, annoying as all fuck bat for more than a few months. Hell, Vinz and him were his friends -kinda- and even _they_ couldn’t take his bullshit for more than a few hours a week.

Especially Vinz. The hothead was still pissed at him for pussying out that one time, leaving them both bruised and bloody, at the mercy of-

 

The halfling switched channels. _Nope. Think about something else._

 

That one was a music channel too, but a less obnoxious one. Hm, old-school pop music. He could live with that. He propped his feet on the coffee table and grabbed a few Froot Loops out of Vinz’s bowl. _No one will ever know._ Without even looking up, he tossed them to the ceiling with a flick if his hand.

They didn’t come back down. Only the sound of thousands of tiny, chitinous bodies above him, and a little crunching noise. _That’s right. Feed, my pretties, feed!_

As the minutes passed, Lino found himself getting into the upbeat, repetitive music. Head bobbing up and down, socked feet twitching to the beat, eyes closing of their own volition. Fingers tapping on the rough fabric of the couch.

He couldn’t help himself; even the shittiest music could get him in that state if it had a decent beat going for it. To stop thinking about anything for once, slipping into mindless motions…

He didn’t remember getting up, didn’t remember starting to lightly swing his hips from side to side. But he didn’t care, because it just felt _nice_.

 

* * *

 

Vinz was doomed. He was _so_ doomed.

This was supposed to be a normal day. He was supposed to come back to the flat and keep being bored out of his mind with his best friend until they both passed out on the couch. A typical sunday, like countless other sundays before it.

Yet there he was, frozen stiff in the doorway, his flames turning bright green because _fucking Lino was dancing alone like a dork in the middle of the living room and he-_

_That was so..._

_Fucking..._

_AAAAAAAAH-_

 

Well that was awkward. He didn’t know if he should to turn back and leave or make himself known. Lino had his eyes closed, features lax, so he probably wouldn’t spot him for a while. Part of him thought that a mortified Lino would be ~~cute~~ funny to see. Another wanted to record the scene for later use as blackmail material (“ _This is payback for using me as a barbecue, you little shit!”)._

As for the last part… well, he hadn’t seen Lino so relaxed in a while. He should let him have his fun while it lasted…

Unfortunately, fate -that bitch- had her own agenda and didn’t let Vinz settle on a decision before the oblivious hybrid yelped and lost his balance, after stepping on a stray pencil that rolled under his heel.

 

That day ended with Angelino nursing a mild concussion -courtesy of the coffee table- and yelling at Vinz to stop leaving his shit everywhere, while the latter apologized profusely.

 _“Or_ maybe _don’t dance with your eyes closed. Dumbass.”_ the hothead thought with a chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who farmed diamonds in minecraft all night and wants to die  
> this gal  
> im so tired


	9. Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vinz and Pipo have a talk at work. Angelino doesn't check the road before crossing.

“A double burg for table 2! Get moving!"

"Yessir!”

Greasy fumes filled the parlor, the kind that made you want to wash your face off after a few seconds of exposure. The tenacious smell of old cooking oil that used to make him gag was now a minor inconvenience at worst. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Vinz carefully flipped the patties over; it’d been a while since he burned something during his shift, and he intended to ride his lucky streak as long as he could.

His boss looked up from the counter to peek at his work, while his hands kept on chopping onions and tomatoes like they had a mind of their own. He nodded in approval. “You’re getting better at this. Maybe with some luck you’ll actually cook something edible every time!” the dago smirked.

The hothead rolled his eyes; he knew Pipo’s little jabs at his cooking skills weren’t mean-spirited in any way -heck, he kinda deserved them after charring his first three pans way back when- but still, he was doing his best! “Well, maybe I will if you stop distracting me...”

Pipo laughed. “No can do, boy. You gotta learn how to multitask if you wanna keep this job.” He jerked his head towards his own worktop: he’d already filled a bowl to the brim with vegetables while the two talked. “You want to be able to get chummy with the customers while you make their damn food, y’know. S’important.”

Vinz nodded, hesitantly, before focusing back on the cooking meat; Pipo had been running his joint for a long time, suffice to say he was damn good at his job. But Vinz? Oooh boy, that was another story.

 

He’d applied for dozens of jobs over the years. Anything from bartending to bouncing (and yes, he only tried that because he thought his face would scare troublemakers away. It didn’t.), but it always ended the same way, with him getting fired (heh) over something dumb. Like a curse. That or he was just  _ that _ incompetent at everything, but Vinz didn’t like to dwell on that particular trail of thought. Not without Lino to snap him out of it.

The hothead ignored the little coil in his chest that often accompanied the thought of his best friend, and lifted up the pan to shake the steaks around. Self-loathing issues aside, the question still stood: why hadn’t Pipo let him go, after so many instances of property damage and accidental arson? And why would the guy even hire a walking fire hazard in the first place, when he could obviously handle everything himself?

“Because you applied and no-one else did.” his boss’ disinterested voice rang.

The skeleton almost dropped the pan, his yellow eyes reduced to mere pinpricks in his black sclerae.  _ Shit, fuck, I said that out loud. _ He turned to Pipo, but the older man wasn’t even looking at him, merely chopping away on a wooden plank. Huh. Maybe he could finally ask what had been weighing on his mind for a while, and Pipo wouldn’t mind.

“I mean…” he began, scratching the back of his skull. “Sure, that’s a given. But I applied, like, four times here, and you always said you didn’t need any extra help. So what made you change your mind?”

 

_ Not your amazing skills or good looks, that's for sure, _ his brain stated.  _ Shut the fuck up,  _ Vinz replied. Unhelpful piece of shit.

 

Pipo shrugged. “Like I said, you were the only one who bothered applying. And after the uh,  _ incident _ a few months back, my view on things kinda changed. Get those off the stove if you don’t want them to dry out.”

Vinz hurriedly got the meat off the stove -there he was, getting distracted again- and started gathering some condiments. “Sorry boss. Uh, the incident? What incident?”

“You know, typical DMC shit. Some shady men-in-black ripoffs came in one evening and told me to, uh, take a hike if I wanted to stay alive.”

Pipo’s brow furrowed at the memory. “They uh, had guns. So I didn’t ask any question and fucked off for the night. Came back the day after to see the whole place smashed, broken tables and cut marks everywhere.”

Vinz didn’t respond. He knew exactly what had happened that night. Flashes of phantom pain pulsed in his throat, images of a dark, nightmarish creature slamming Angelino against the ceiling bubbling to the forefront of his mind.  _ Ugh. Sorry about that, Pipo. _

“Let’s just say,” the chef continued, “that my priorities changed that day. I wanted to spend more time with my daughter, y’know? She barely sees her old man already, so if this fucked up city decided to off me one of those days…” He turned to look at Vinz, a shadow of a fond smile on his chiselled face. “That’s why I hired your ass. To get some pressure off my back. If by some miracle I can make a decent cook outta you, I could entrust the joint to you for a few hours a day.”

 

If Vinz still had his lower jaw, it would’ve fallen off by now. Did he hit his head on a shelf at some point? Had Pipo... just said he wanted _ him _ to run the place on his own during his shifts?

That. That was new. Someone other than his roommate was beginning to put a smidge of  _ trust _ in him and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. “...You have a kid?” he managed to utter. That wasn’t what he planned on asking at all, but then again his thinkpan was a bit jumbled at the moment. 

The italian smiled more broadly, a forlorn look in his eyes. “Aye. Chiara, _ la luce dei miei occhi. _ She’s the most precious thing I’ll ever have in this life.” He glanced back at the food and started to stack the ingredients on a plate, gesturing at Vinz to pass him the cooked ground meat. “When you have someone like that, a person you want to protect with all you have? Gives you a reason to get up in the morning. Keep going.”

 

Vinz tilted his head to the side, blinking.

 

_ Memories of strangled gasps and muffled screaming, of strained breathing and anguished whimpers, of feverish mumblings and howls of pain. Tearful, guilt-ridden black eyes and black skin, spotted in purple. Crimson patches in pure white snow. _

_ No more no more please stop for the love of god stopstopstop he’s going to die stop- _

 

He shook his head, his flames turning to a soft green. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

A new sense of comprehension settled between the two, Pipo nodded and handed the now filled plate to the hothead. “I’m sure you do. Now get out there and bring this guy his food before he starts bitching.”

 

* * *

 

Angelino gaped. That wasn’t how his day was supposed to go. He barely registered the truck driver spewing profanities at him -nothing he hadn’t heard before- as he tried to understand what just happened.

So he’d been distracted, sue him for browsing funny memes to forget about how shitty life was in general (“ _ News flash asshole: we’re millennials, we all crave the sweet release of death.” _ ), and he hadn’t registered the truck coming at him until he was in the middle of the road. At this point, all he’d been able to think was “Again?” as the 3-ton metal box on wheels came, too close and too fast. Oh, the sense of imminent doom and terror  _ did _ reach him eventually, but something real fucking weird had happened before he could act on it.

 

The truck just kinda… stopped a few feet from him. Pretty violently too, if the huge, circular dent on the front of the truck and the driver’s broken nose were anything to go by.

 

And that was good, he was definitely glad about not dying to that asshat. Problem was, he hadn’t seen the thing the dude slammed his semi into. There was just…nothing there.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he did see some weird shimmer around him at the moment of impact, but it was probably the heat of the air around the motor… right?

Speaking of heat… as the driver stomped away from him, huffing slurs and flipping him off, the hybrid felt something heat up on his right leg. It wasn’t quite burning, but close enough to be uncomfortable. Lino frowned, carefully reaching into his pocket, and blinked owlishly when he came up with a familiar white slip of paper. 

 

One of Vinz’ little magic sigil thingies. It was glowing.

 

_ “...What the fuck is happening.” _

As if on cue, the symbol -something about protection _ , _ he remembered- glowed brighter for a second… before it disappeared completely, the slip of paper turning to ash in his palm. 

 

At the same time, in a different part of DMC, a certain hothead gasped as a wave of dizziness hit him like a tidal wave, his legs nearly giving up on him.  He'd later drag himself back to his apartement, fuzzily wondering what the hell _that_ was about, and pass out on the couch until the next morning.  


 

But for now, Angelino only stared as the ash scattered to the winds. He glanced at the damaged truck, back to his empty hand. Then he groaned. “Are you _fucking_ _serious_ -”

 

He was  _ not _ telling Vinz, or he’d never hear the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep, they work. in hindsight the effect is a bit overpowered in my taste, but then again vinz almost died from it so... yeah, something of that magnitude won't happen again.
> 
> oh, and my vinz has flames that shift colors depending on what he feels. the hotter or colder the flame gets, the closer it gets to the ultraviolet or infrared end of the spectrum. so emotions that typically mean a lesser body heat (sadness, anxiety, fear, depression...) mean an orange -> dark red flame, and things like anger, happiness and embarrassment mean a bright yellow -> blue flame.
> 
> idk i'm just having fun with it. it's a trope i like.


	10. Flowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boyz go back to a familiar place.

Climate change was no joke it seemed.

Vinz awoke drenched with sweat, his blanket -the one with little tigers leaping around, his favourite-  pooling at the foot of the couch. He groaned in faint disgust as he hurriedly sat up, hating the sensation of moist fabric against his back. _Gross._ He rubbed the crust out of his eyes and looked towards the window; the sun had barely began to peek out over the horizon.

 _Uuugh_. Only in DMC one could wake up to suffocating heat at 8am in the middle of november. The world truly was going to shit. Good thing the flames atop his skull weren't actually hot most of the time, however _that_ worked.

He sighed. Even with their new president doing her best to undo a decade’s worth of damage on environmental laws, it would be a long time until things started to change for the better.

 

“Wow, you look like death!”

The hothead turned around to huff at the other couch, or rather the half-alien laying upside-down on the back. _His socks don’t match_ , Vinz noted distractedly. _  
_

Angelino flashed him a shit-eating grin, seemingly unbothered with the humid heat taking over the neighbourhood. Vinz glared back; his roommate’s freaky genetics must’ve granted him some kind of resistance to high temperatures. Lucky bastard. “Dude, shut up. S’too early for your sass.”

“What? I’m just being a concerned friend. You don’t look so _hot_ after all.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

The skeleton jumped to his feet and hurried out of the room, eager to get out of earshot of his best friend’s terrible puns -the _dumbass radius_ as he called it- and cool down in a cold shower. Which one he wished for the most right now was up for debate.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t step from under the _delightfully freezing_ water until his fingertips turned blue and his body seized up in uncontrollable shivers. He should be set for a couple of hours.

The young adult entered the kitchen in a much better mood, finding Lino munching on cereals right out of the box, not-so-sneakily dropping some on the floor for his roaches to feast on. “Took you long enough, thought you drowned or something.” the hybrid stated, passing the half-empty box to Vinz’ awaiting hands. He smirked, a teasing glint in his inky black eyes. “Did you have _fun_ in there?”

The hothead half-ground half-snickered; he could almost _hear_ the italics. _What is he, fifteen ?_   “Well, I didn’t die. Glad you still care.”

“I always care!”

“I know. Remember that storm back at the orphanage? I went outside to see and you got so scared my flames would go out and I’d die. You cried for like an hour.”

 

Angelino tensed up in protest. “What? Bullshit, I didn’t cry!”

“You _so_ did. You didn’t want to go outside cuz you’re scared of thunder -don’t give me that look, I _know_ it still makes you flinch-, and when I came back you were screaming about Charmander. Ring any bells?”

His best friend looked like he just bit into a particularly sour lemon. He was fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve and was definitely avoiding his gaze now, his cheeks a darker shade than the rest of his pitch black face. Vinz wished he could take a pic to immortalize one of the rare moments he managed to shut his roomate up.

The image of a much smaller, younger Lino sobbing into his shirt, his tiny fists clutching the fabric came to the forefront of his mind. _S’okay Lino, don’t cry!_ he remembered laughing. _My flames are magic, see? Stupid water can’t hurt me!_

He felt himself smile. Granted, he couldn't _actually_ smile with his lack of skin (and facial muscles. And lower jaw.), but the way his eyes squinted and his flames turned to a bright yellow were good enough indicators. He teasingly grabbed his pouting roommate and trapped him into a ruthless noogie. “Don’t worry you lil’ shit, I’m not kicking the bucket anytime soon. _Someone_ gotta watch out for your scrawny ass.”

The hybrid hissed in discomfort and wrestled out of Vinz’ grip, rubbing this head. “‘Scrawny’?! Fuck you, yours is bony!”. He then proceeded to trip the other with a swift kick. The hothead yelped as he hit the ground - _thank god for the shitty carpet-,_ his rival cackling evilly. Angelino used the other’s stunned state to sit cross legged onto his back -earning a strangled _oof_ in the process-, grab his right arm and, with a triumphant smile, twist it against his clavicle.

“- Ack! Lino, the fuck?!

\- That’s what you get for screwing with me! Now yield!

\- Hell no, you motherfucker!”

Vinz didn’t quite know how it had come to this, him face planted into the faded orange carpet with his best friend sitting on top of him and basically asphyxiating him. It was all in good fun though, he could feel the tremors of uncontrollable giggles rattling his chest.

“You gonna give up yet? No rush, you make a good seat."

"Ngh… thought I was bony?"

"A bony seat's still a seat."

"So deep. Ten outta ten, truly inspiring. You gonna write a book on that?”

The half-alien just smiled wider, pulling on his arm a little harder.

“Ow, ow, okay _ow, fine, you win!_ ” the hothead wheezed from under him. “You win! Now lemme go before I burn your ass!”

Lino let go of his arm, chuckling. “You wouldn’t dare. My ass is a national treasure.”

Vinz repressed a certain thought immediately after it came to existence, letting out a deep sigh and glaring over his shoulder. “Right, keep thinking that. You gonna get off or what?”

His roommate didn’t respond, still sitting crossed legged in the small of his back. He was staring right ahead, head tilted to the side and brow furrowed, like he was trying really hard to figure something out. The skeleton squinted. “Lino, not that I don’t appreciate you, but it’s a little hard to breathe here and I’m getting sweaty again so-”

“You think that place is still there?”

 

The hothead’s voice trailed to a stop at the interruption. The young hybrid had turned to look at him, something fuzzy and familiar in his bug eyes. He blinked. “...Uh, ’s not like a place can actually go anywhere… else... than where it’s at. You talkin' about the orphanage? Cuz I’m pretty sure it’s still where it’s always been.”

“Not that, dumbass. I mean the stream.”

Vinz’ eye sockets widened, a glint of recollection in his yellow pupils. “Wait, _that_ stream? The one with the little waterfall overhead?”

“Yeah.”

“The one where we ran off to when it was too hot and we wanted to piss off the old broad?”

“Yup.”

“The one where you hit your head while trying to do a flip and you almost died of hypothermia?”

“Uh, I don’t-” Now Vinz was just fucking with him.

The skeleton’s tone took a teasing edge. “The one where I went to get some water that one time, and came back to find you-”

“YES. Yes Vinz, that one.” Angelino quickly cut him off and jumped off him, voice going up an octave. His victim dramatically rolled onto his back and took a much-needed gulp of air, as the other sneered from above him. “Fucker.”

“Bitch.” Vinz responded, flipping him off. He sat up against the bottom of the couch and cracked his joints. “So, our old secret place. What about it?”

His friend grimaced. “Don’t call it that, what are you, _five_ ?”

 _Yeah, five inches deep in your MOM._ Oh how Vinz wanted to quote that iconic vine. But he refrained from doing so, given who stood in front of him.

“I was thinking…” the hybrid began, plopping down next to him. “It’s early, it’s warm as all hell and we got fuckall to do today. Maybe we can go back. See if it’s still there and not, y’know, _bulldozered_ and shit.”

The skeleton stared at him. “...What, ten years later? Why?”

“Why not? It’s a bit far, but I remember how to get there. And with how we originally found it by complete accident and all, pretty sure no one but us knows it exists. Could be worth it.”

 

_Huh._

 

Vinz hummed. Maybe it would, as the alternative would be to spend the day under cold water, bitching about the hotel's lack of proper cooling system. Maybe... it was finally time to _go back_.

He turned to an expectant roommate, determination steeled in his features. “Okay. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Angelino finally stopped at the edge of a huge grey rock, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He didn’t remember the way up being so steep. Vinz wasn’t far behind him, his heavy breathing and cursing catching up to him. Given the colorful words leaving his mouth about the “fucking piece of shit trees that don’t have anything better to do than fuck up my day”, he guessed his companion must’ve had tripped on a root at some point. In any case, the hothead finally hauled his way up the rock and bend forward, panting in exertion as his best friend sat down, legs dangling over the edge.

“Shit.” Vinz wheezed out, wiping the sweat off his skull. “I think we need to work out more, I feel like passing out.”. The hybrid snorted, not tearing his eyes away from the scenery below. “Yeah, fuck that noise. _I_ ’m doing fine, _you_ ’re the one who needs to go out more.”

The skeleton made a noncommittal grunt and popped his back into place, sighing in relief. He opened his eye sockets and took in the sight below them.

It felt… weird. It was the same old place he remembered, but not? Kinda? The thin waterfall dropping down the red stonewall was the same. The deformed bean-shaped basin at the bottom was the same. The clear water (hallelujah, it was still clear after all those years) overflowing from said basin was the same. But everything else seemed to have shifted slightly, and the whole place felt scaled down. Smaller.

 

Eh. After more than ten years it was probably normal.

 

They stood still for another minute, silently letting fleeting memories and faint nostalgia wash over them. Then Angelino looked up at his best friend and smiled softly. “Wanna go down?”

 

* * *

 

“I remember it being a lot bigger."

"Nah dude, you were just short."

"Shut up, you were even shorter than I was, and that’s saying something.”  


The hybrid ignored the jab at his own petite frame, staring at the sky peeking out from between the foliage. He was floating on his back, half immersed into the basin. Cold water lapped at his ears now and again, drowning the world the low hum of moving water.

The basin wasn’t that deep, two meters at most, and only wide enough for about two grown adults to do the starfish without bumping into each other. So wide enough for two of each of them, if not more...

With that and the sun heating up the stones all day, it wasn’t too cold, juste pleasantly chilly. Vinz had insisted on bringing some heating runes and sigils for some reason, and Lino had indulged him with a shrug. And even though, deep down, the hothead had been intrigued by the strange (worried?) look Angelino kept giving him while he worked his magic (heh), he decided not to ask.

 

The half-alien closed his eyes and filled his lungs with relatively pure air, at least compared to DMC’s usual smog.

 

In. Out. In and out, again.

 

His lead felt clear, quiet, a welcome reprieve from the constant outside noises and the numbing buzz of his own thoughts. It was nice.

Had it been worth the two-hour long bus trip full of rude and sweaty people? The forty-minute trek through the wilderness that left them breathless, dusty and bloody in some places?

 

Heck. Yes.

 

“Vinz?” he called out, eyes still closed. His voice was quiet, most of his energy having been sapped by the heat and the climbing. His friend only acknowledged him with a hoarse, inquisitive hum. Sounded like the hothead wasn’t faring much better. Angelino took a deep breath.

“Why did we stop coming here?”

 

A few seconds of silence. Thinking Vinz needed him to elaborate, he kept talking. “I mean, this place is pretty nice. S’always been this way, our own little thing, you know? It was hard to get there, I remember that much, but it was always worth it in the end. Sure life kinda kept kicking us into the ground, but it was still here, just a few hours away. So why-”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

 

Angelino cracked his eyes open; Vinz was staring at him with a tired but sharp look, slowly drifting onto the surface of the water. The halfling blinked in confusion. “Remember what?”

His roomate let out an airy laugh, running a now chilly hand against his face. “Figures. Don’t worry, s’not a life-or-death kind of info. Uh, you remember earlier when I told you you almost died here once?”

The hybrid lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, when you were fucking with me this morning.”

“I wasn’t. It happened.”

“...Oh.”

 

His best friend was staring at the sky now, hands folded casually in his lap. He continued. “I think we were like, ten? Yeah, sounds about right. We knew this place like the back of our hands by then, so we stopped paying attention to everything so much. We got uh, reckless.”

His hands fidgeted with the hem of his soaked shirt. “It was kinda cold and rainy that day, so not the ideal weather to go for a swim, but we didn’t give a shit. It was still better than being with the other stupid brats.” He lifted his arm and pointed to the top of the thin waterfall, about four meters above them. “Happened riiiight there, on that ledge. Take a guess at what happened.”

Angelino rubbed the back of his head, an uncomfortable ache pooling under his palm. “Knowing us, we probably did something stupid and someone fell down.”

“Close enough. Some dumb bets were made, doesn’t matter what they were about, I slipped off the ledge and we _both_ fell. Cuz you tried to catch me.”

 

The hybrid’s eyes widened. He truly didn’t remember these events at all. And the ache wasn’t going away, even if it wasn’t getting worse either.

“So yeah, we both got knocked the fuck out. Think I busted my ankle too, hurt like a bitch for days. Anyway, I think I woke up about ten minutes later? I wasn’t too messed up, just a concussed.” Vinz distractedly ruffled a tree branch hanging low over the basin. “Still,  the wind had picked up and I was pretty damn cold. But uh, I realized pretty quickly that I was just _peachy_ compared to you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Dude. You slid into the basin when you fell and just, _soaked_ there in freezing water for ten minutes. Good thing you were on your back.” He shook his head. “But the thing is, spending that amount of time in the cold's bad for everyone, yeah? If you’re really unlucky you get a pneumonia or some shit. _You?_ You looked like you were dead. Blue skin and everything.” The hothead slid a knowing glance at his friend. “ _That_ shade of blue. Even without the uh, _stuff_ we know now, that was pretty fucking terrifying. Also your nose was bleeding, so there was a nice big head trauma on top of everything else.”  


Lino stayed silent.

 

“Not sure how I managed to get us back to the main road, I was so numb and cold and feeling like puking my guts out. And bro, no offence but you weren’t exactly a lightweight for me at the time. But we made it somehow, so that was good! But then I, uh, passed out again.”

Vinz linked his eyes with Lino’s again, his tone lighter. “But hey, someone found us and got us back to the orphanage, so no one died! …Obviously, I know, shut up. I was really sick for a while after that -heck we both were, you were out for like two days- but I got over it. The whole thing.”

He looked up again. “You uh, didn’t. Not completely. After that, everytime I mentioned this place, or what happened, you got really weird. Like, all distant and jumpy and _not all there_ , you know? Some serious PTSD shit, but I was ten and dumb so I didn’t know shit about that. So I stopped mentioning it, and then you just... got back to normal at some point.”

The young man hummed, squinting. “... Aaaand that’s about it. Never brought it up again, life happened, freaky shit happened, and now we’re back here. So yeah, I was a bit worried when you told me you wanted to come back. But it went well in the end, right?”

Vinz reached out, lightly touching his best friend’s shoulder with his fingertips. His flames were a dull red, anxiety radiating from every inch of him. “You ain’t gonna freak out on me, right...?”

Angelino hadn’t stopped looking right at him. Something warm settled onto his features. “Nah. I’m good.”

“Oh thank fuck.”

 

Vinz let out a nervous chuckle, covering his eye sockets with his arm. “That’s- that’s great. I missed this place so fucking much and I’m really glad we came back.”

The half-alien bumped their shoulder together with a small smile. “Yeah, me too. Sorry I got you in trouble.”

“No you’re not.” his childhood friend replied without malice before turning back to the sky, eye sockets slowly closing.

Angelino did the same, darkness filling his vision. The headache was gone. Not in a “I just had an epiphany and remembered everything” kind of way. He still didn’t remember. But that was fine. He was fine. He had to be.

Because he knew that that moron would get himself killed trying to help him if he didn’t. He understood the reasoning behind the heat sigils now -watching someone almost freeze to death _twice_ would do that to a person-, but that didn’t mean he had to accept it.

 

He wasn’t stupid. When he'd come home from work the other day, he'd found Vinz passed out on the couch, where he'd stayed still and unresponsive until the day after. The very same day one of his little voodoo -or whatever- thingies stopped a _truck_ from hitting him.

It didn’t take him long to put two and two together. That shit could've killed him, and Vinz had no idea.

He wouldn’t let him put his ass in danger for him, not if he could help it. He could start by _not_ ending up at death’s door every few days like the dumbass he was.

 

“Hey, Vinz.”

 

A quiet hum. Quieter than before.

 

“Thanks.”

“...dun' mention it. Didja ‘member?”

 

Vinz was slurring. Count on this weirdo to fall asleep anywhere.

“Nope. Sorry.”

“...s’okay...”

"..."

“...can ‘member for th’both of us.”

 

The water was cold, but the sun kept his core warm. Vinz’ slow, even breathing, not far, never far.

 

He was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps hands on table* 28 STAB WOUNDS-
> 
> jk, nothing that extreme. but it did take me eight hours to write this, cuz those two keep escaping me how the fuck do they keep doing that. like holy shit, this is probably the longest thing i wrote in my life.
> 
> also DON’T do what those jackasses did and fall asleep in the sun. you’ll just end up with a monster headache and sunburns.
> 
> imma go eat now bye


	11. Cruel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lino finds something on his way back from work.

People were running around in a panic, seeking shelter from the cold drizzle that was steadily growing to a full-out storm. A few drunkards were openly cursing at the dark and heavy sky, as if their slurred profanities would somehow convince the clouds to fuck off somewhere else.

Angelino paid them no mind, keeping his head down as he made a beeline for Rios Rosas; apparently his usual bus had decided that the gloomy weather was a valid reason not to do its freaking job.

 

Yup. Out of all the shit happening daily in this nuthouse of a city, _rain_ was the thing that gave the drivers cold feet. _Fucking lazy cunts._

 

So there he was, walking home under pouring rain like an idiot. He snickered; on the bright side, they wouldn’t be as many thugs as usual on the way. Maybe he could get to his flat without getting his ass handed to him by some fuckwit who didn’t like how his face looked.

Deep into his own muttering, he didn’t notice the flash drowning the world in white for a brief moment, and thus nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud cracking sound assaulted his eardrums a few seconds later. Biting back a startled yelp, he looked up; the sky was so dark and low he could barely make out the top of the building he was walking past, and an ominous rumbling made his throat close up with unease.

 _“Thunderstorm. Fuck.”_ As if this day couldn’t get any shittier. The hybrid gritted his teeth and picked up the pace, his already damp clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin; he just wanted to go home dammit, why did bus drivers had to be such a pain in his-

Another flash made his eyes widen, his stomach coiling in fearful anticipation. _Okay, okay, maybe it won’t be so bad, maybe it won’t be_ too _loud-_

 

**_CRRRRACCCKKKK_ **

 

“AH, FUCK!”

 

He couldn’t help his body curling in on itself, his arms flying upwards to cover his ears and push, push, _push_ against his skull, like it’d block out the sound if he squeezed hard enough. He couldn’t quite make out the sounds that were leaving his mouth right now, but it probably wasn’t glorious.

God, he probably looked like a lunatic.

He shook himself out of… whatever this was, and broke into a sprint. Lightning didn’t strike twice in the same place, right? So the next ones would _have_ to drop further away, and by the time they got close again he would be home! Seemed legit.

And so he ran for a few minutes, barely dodging a few irate passerby and the occasional tipped-over trash can, his worn shoes threatening to let him slip on the wet pavement any second.

 

The halfling had began to see Hotel Guadalupe peeking out from between rooftops when something stopped him dead in his tracks. He slowly turned to the right, the weird, high-pitched noise sending an unfamiliar tingle down his spine; there was something down that alleway, something…

That noise again. He cocked his head to the side as he felt something flimsy brush at the edge of his awareness.

 

_Cold._

_Pain._

_Cold._

 

He shivered, equally from the cold _and_ the intrusive emotions he was getting from… somewhere. Eyes wide, he took a few steps towards the back of the alley, where a large, mostly burned down trash bin stood. The pressure in his head was growing, his pitch black skin prickling with goosebumps-

_Wait._

He froze, a horrible suspicion worming its way in: the last time he felt something like this, it’d brought him _hell_. Getting ambushed in his own apartment and hunted down and _kidnapped and beaten and brainwashed and_ nooooooope. Nope. Not today brain, not dealing with your shit.

Another noise, shorter and closer. Sounded like… a sneeze maybe? Lino’s brow furrowed as _something_ wiggled in the half-melted heap of trash; Whatever it was _sounded_ harmless enough, but he had learned not to trust anything in this hellhole. Still, he couldn’t help taking a few more steps, and before he knew it the thing was right in front of him.

_“Nice job dumbass. What happened to ‘don’t ask questions, don’t get involved’?”_

He chuckled in disbelief -he was _so_ gonna get himself killed one of those days- and stood on his tiptoes to peer into the bin.

 

And- yep, that uh, that was a cat alright. Definitely a cat. Not a weird tentacle monster or -hell no- a rabid dog. Juste a tiny, pathetic-looking cat.

Angelino groaned; this was stupid. This whole situation was fucking stupid, he was standing in an obviously cut-throat alleway in a middle of a storm because _he heard a dumb cat meowing._ Said cat -merely a kitten really- was still whining, not moving from the mostly-deflated tire he was laying against, the stains of dust and oil practically invisible amidst its inky black fur. Lino tilted his head; that thing didn’t look so good. Its fur was matted in most places and sticky with oil and blood, yellow eyes wide and unfocused. Its little chest rose and fell rapidly, harsh little puffs of air leaving his struggling lungs.

It was small. Probably a runt.

The little circular dents in its side made Lino shiver in sympathy; that looked like a dog bite, a pretty nasty one at that. “Damn. Sorry buddy, that must hurt like hell.” he mumbled, absentmindedly tracing his fingers along the scar on his left hip. The only response he got was a weak meow.

The pressure in his mind was receding, but it didn’t qualm his nervousness in any way; instead, a growing sense of dread filled him as the creature in front of him moved slower and slower, his meows getting quieter, few and far between.

Angelino wasn’t naive: the tiny thing was dying, alone in a trash bin, in the pouring rain. The weather had gotten colder in the few minutes he’d spent on that alleyway, and given the tremors shaking the hybrid’s body, the hypothermia would probably finish it off before the blood loss would.

It was sad, yes. And unfair. But life in DMC was cruel like that, that was a fact Lino had accepted a long time ago. He wanted to tear his eyes away from the twitching body before him, turn back and run home to relative warmth, and dryness, and _Vinz_ who’d probably finished his shift at Pipo’s by now-

 

Another meow. That one was longer, louder that anything that had come out of the cat’s mouth until now. The half-alien was jerked away from his reverie, only to be pinned into place by an impossibly bright yellow gaze, tired and desperate and _terrified._ He felt his breath hitch as the world lost its focus.

 

_He was cold, and alone. The warmth and scent that he had learned to associate with safety were gone, and everything around him smelled bad. He laid prone against something hard, letting out quiet little whines. He was hungry. Where was home? Where did the nice voice go, the one that always made him feel happy? He wanted it back…_

_“Mama…”_

 

* * *

 

Vinz stood in the doorway, second favourite El Diablo t-shirt on and unimpressed frown on his face. He pinched the area above his nasal bone. “Lino... what the actual fuck.”

His roommate smiled uneasily. He was absolutely soaking wet, a little puddle of rainwater already pooling underneath him, and he bored the same expression he had whenever he’d seen one of his roaches die. His arms were tightly wrapped around his midsection, full-body tremors shaking up his limbs.

Between that and the blue-ish tint of his skin, Vinz was _concerned_.

“Hey. You mind letting me in? I’m freezing my ass off here.” the hybrid asked.

The hothead raised an eyebrow, but moved over to let him through. “No shit. I’ve been home for hours! I was starting to think you got jumped on the way here.”

“Nah.” his best friend drawled, walking past the door and into the living room. “Buses stopped working so I had to walk, that’s all. It sucked though.”

Vinz winced, closing the apartment door. For anyone else, it would’ve been a mere annoyance. But for Lino… he shook his head, resisting the urge to fuss over his friend. “Yeesh bro. Good thing it's not snowing yet. There’s still some hot water left if you want to get warmed up.”

Angelino just hummed distractedly, still clutching his arms against his chest. He looked distant, and to Vinz that could usually mean one of two things: either he’d somehow gotten hurt and was trying to hide it from him, or alien stuff was eating at him.

In either case, it was bad. But Lino would immediately shut him out when he prodded him about it, so he kept a comfortable distance. “So uh, that’s it then? Nothing else happened?” he asked, keeping his tone as even as possible. And _that_ ’s when the hybrid to face him, pearls of rainwater still dropping from his soaked green hoodie, with a very strange expression on his face.

Huh. Was that shame? ... _Sheepishness?_

“...kiiiinda? It’s not bad though, really.”

“Ugh, just spit it out. What did you pull _this_ time?”

Angelino didn’t grace him with a response, slowly unclutching his middle and reaching into his hoodie’s kangaroo pocket instead. Vinz squinted; okay, so he’d found something. Hopefully it wasn’t a gun this time, Lino tended to get a liiiittle trigger-happy whenever he found one of those. He’d spent a whole week fixing up the ceiling that one time.

His roomate pulled the mysterious item out of his pocket, cradling it with surprising gentleness. At first glance it seemed pretty small, dark and furry-looking _wait what._ Vinz looked back up, his right eyelid twitching in disbelief. “Are you. Serious.”

Angelino just shrugged, holding the little black creature in the crook of his elbow. “Hey, don’t give me that look. It was cold and alone and pretty sure a dog mistook it for a chew toy or something.”

“You brought a fucking _cat_ home.”

“S'a kitten technically…”

“How did this even happen?”

“I just told you!”

 

The hothead groaned, his flames taking a blueish tint. “Dude, I _tolerate_ your roaches cuz they saved our asses that one time, but this shit right there?” he flailed his hands around as his best friend climbed up the kitchen counter, reaching for the cupboard where they kept their meager medical supplies. “The fuck were you thinking? We got enough shit to deal with between the two of us, you really think we can afford a _pet_?!”

The halfling gave him a Look™, gathering gauze and antiseptic while cradling the bundle in his arm. Now that Vinz could see it for himself, it _was_ strangely silent and still, and the dark patches on the bottom of Lino’s hoodie didn’t look like water. His dark-skinned companion took a deep breath and hopped down the counter.

“I know. I know, okay? I know this is dumb Vinz, trust me on this. There was a freak storm, I was panicking like an idiot, and that thing was screaming its lungs out from the bottom of a trash bin. And don’t ask me why I didn’t just ignore it cuz I sure as hell don’t know.” He held the furry thing out, urging Vinz to take a closer look. “Remember what you told me back then? What was it, ‘trash babies need to stick together’ ?”

The kitten twitched in his hands, its tiny mouth opening on a silent cry. Its pitch black fur was sticking out every which way, sticky with blood and other nasty street fluids, eyes firmly shut and tiny paws reaching up at nothing.

Lino sat down into already long-ruined carpet, starting to pour bright red disinfectant on cheap cotton balls. “So yeah, that one might kick the bucket before morning. Fucking dogs, man.” He absentmindedly scratched at his off-white scar. “But who knows, right? I think it’d fit right in with us.” he quietly stated.

Vinz stared at him for a few seconds, his hands picking at the hem of his second-favourite shirt. He eventually rolled his ethereal eyes, sighing; how did this guy manage to always rope him into his tomfuckery?

“Fine. I’ll go get the towels.”

 

* * *

 

A tingling sensation near his nasal cavity brought Vinz back to the waking world. He curled up tighter in protest, clinging to the warmth in his limbs and the soft cotton in his head. Unfortunately the itch came back twice as strong and a sudden sneeze seized him up, waking him up for good. _"...Ouch."_

He was too out of it to feel it before, but every single inch of him ached. The day was off to a great start. He blearily opened his eyes, his sight returning as the two rings of light formed in his socket-

-and was greeted with a pair of slitted, wide yellow eyes peering at him from a mere inch away.

 

The hothead sprang up with a yelp, bumping his skull against the coffee table, because he was lucky like that. He sat up, crossed legged on the faded carpet beneath him. _Right,_ he mused, rubbing his aching skull. _Living room. Fell asleep on the floor._

That explained why he felt like shit. He popped a few joints into place with a grunt and looked down at the source of his current misery.

The black kitten Lino had dragged home last night stood right in front on him, staring curiously at his flames. Most of its midsection had been wrapped in yellow-white gauze in an effort to stop the bleeding in his side, and while it obviously bothered it, the bandages seemed to have helped; the animal’s movement were slow and sluggish, but its eyes were bright and alert, and its fur, while still dirty, wasn’t matted or sticky with blood anymore. A major improvement compared to the state it was in the day before.

Vinz looked up; Angelino was still out, coiled against the bottom of the couch. Hi crooked fingers twitched every now and again; he’d probably wake up soon.

The kitten chirped, attracting Vinz’ attention again; it had taken a few hesitant steps towards him and was now sniffing his socked feet in earnest. He raised a brow ridge. “Dude, gross.” He stick his finger in front of the creature’s nose, watching it swipe harmlessly at it.

The hothead snorted at its antics. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was glad. This little gremlin most likely would’ve died if not for them. He felt like they’d done something right for once, like they’d _fixed_ something instead of fucking it up.

Not gonna lie, it felt pretty good.

 

“Didn’t know you were a cat person.”

 

Vinz huffed; Angelino had stood up from his previous curled up state on the floor and was approaching him, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The hothead took his eyes away from the tiny panther attempting murder on his hand to peer at his roomate. “Tch, no way man. haven’t you heard? Cats are evil.”

“Can’t be worse than dogs.” the hybrid shrugged, plopping down next to him. “Also, don’t you do witchy stuff? You can’t do witchy stuff without a black cat, pretty sure that’s against witch law or something.”

“It’s _wicca_. Also that’s a very insulting stereotype and I'm real offended by that statement.”

“Aw, sorry bro. Guess you’ll have to _spell_ it out for me.”

“Eat a dick.”

 

The hybrid just chuckled, reaching down to let the kitten rub its face against his palm. Vinz sighted. “Hey uh, this is nice and all, but we still can’t keep this guy. Pets cost money, in case you didn’t know.”

The cat gave Lino’s hand a raspy lick, before turning back to the skeleton to try and climb up his leg. Vinz glared at it, as if daring it to try and swoon him with its big round eyes and tiny wiggly ears and-

The feline clumsily slid off his pant leg and ended up on its back, tiny black padded paws reaching up at him. He would’ve bit his lip if he could. _Dammit._

Angelino smiled. Vinz was so easy to read. “It’s fine. It’s just for a few days bro, just the time for this lil' nugget to get its pep back. Don’t even have to take her to a vet or anything.” He dig his fingers in their guest’s furry belly, wincing when razor-sharp teeth nipped his knuckles. Mh, maybe that was a dumb thing to do.

_Here’s to hoping the thing doesn’t have rabies or something._

“ ‘sides,” he added, “she looks old enough to take care of herself. Cats usually go and do their own shit, you barely have to do anything. They’re like roaches, but fuzzier. And before you ask, _no_ _she ain’t gonna eat my roaches._ Told you before, they're smart, they’ll stay clear of her.”

Vinz stayed silent for a few moments, then relented. “Fine,” he groaned, “we can keep it for now. Seriously though, only you could compare freaking roaches to a- wait, ‘she’? How the fuck can you tell?”

“Dunno, I just kinda know? _Ouch_ , nice bunny kicks. Maybe she can be a wrestler one day.”

“So what, you some kind of psychic now?” _On top of everything else?_ Vinz wanted to add, but he didn’t.

 

Lino smirked, taking his hand away from the vicious beast at his feet. “Yeah, I can see into your mind, and what I see is disgusting. You got some fucked up kinks man.”

The hothead glared at him as the kitten climbed into his lap, successfully this time. “I call bullshit, I- _Ow_ , claws. Ten bucks it’s male.”

“Whatever, it’s _your_ money.” the hybrid retorted, watching their protegee knead the front of Vinz’ shirt with abandon, the first hints of a purr leaving his tiny chest. The skeleton blinked, his head tilting to the side.

 

“...He kinda looks like you.”

“We’re not naming her after me, Vinz.”

“What, i’m just saying!”

 

The kitten yawned, kneading Vinz' shirt into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah  
> in the end they never settled on a name, they just started to call it different names every day. also Lino being kinda phonophobic? this is 100% me projecting. if u start blowing up a baloon next to me i will fucking run away from you  
> *mixes a little of each soda in existence in a cup* *sips* fuck you i do what i want
> 
> ((can you tell i'm sleep-deprived and desperate to be funny im so pathetic rxcfrbhhgvihiqscvfv))


	12. Whale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lino has a strage dream. Someone else is here.

_Something doesn’t seem right in the way the buildings around him keep twisting and morphing in the corner of his eye, but Angelino can’t bring himself to care. He has a job to do._

 

_He looks down at the shimmering water bubble hovering between his palms; two goldfish leisurely swim inside, lithe bodies twisting and gliding with mesmerizing grace: a black one, and a white one with splotches of brilliant red. That’s right, he has to deliver those somewhere._

 

_Now, where the fuck is that again?_

 

_He hums, looking up at the dark night sky; hundreds of silver moons gaze down at him, their inquisitive eyes blinking and whispering in a voice that feel like liquid velvet running down his spine. “Did you find it yet?” one of them asks. No, he responds, because that’s the truth. Not like he wants to find it. The door is locked anyway._

 

_The eyes laugh at him. He wants to run, and he does, but his naked feet don’t make a sound against the moving earth underneath him. The buildings don’t move, they just stay there, shifting in ways that make his brain hurt. “Find it. Find it. Find it.” they chant._

 

_“Is that for me?” Luna asks him softly. He can’t see her, but she’s here. Of course she is, this makes perfect sense. He clutches at his chest. No, he says, I made this one for Vinz._

_Her presence next to him feel_ warm me but not me violet oakwood cinnamon kinship.

 

 _He leans into it, and it feels right, but not in the way he expects. It’s softer, calmer, a bit like the_ warm safe jasmine smoke milk lullaby _feeling buried deep in his memories. He shakes his head. This isn’t what I want. “I know.” she says._

 

_And then she’s not there anymore and the buildings are gone too, and there’s only sand and sand and sand under his feet and everywhere he looks, and the moons have yellow eyes and they’re burning in silence, and he looks down and his hands are empty and covered in glowing sigils, and he blinks-_

 

_“Oh.” he says, hearing his own voice for the first time. “I’m dreaming.”_

 

A stumble-jolt, the sensation of dulled senses coming into sharp focus. Lino gulped down air like a drowning man, bug eyes blinking into clearheadedness. A dream. Of course it had been a dream, none of it made any sense at all in hindsight.

He looked around; the ominous moons over his head had faded into fuzzy amorphous shapes, and looking at them too long made him dizzy. But the desert was still there, the gentle rolling dunes and coarse golden sand between his toes more real that what felt comfortable at the moment.

 

Wait, why was he still here? Hadn’t he woken up just now? The hybrid stared at his hands and flexed them a few times, acutely aware of the pressure on his skin and the strain of his muscles. Yep, he felt pretty awake alright. So why the fuck was he in this… whatever this place was, and not in his shitty couch in his shitty appartment? He vaguely remembered passing out in the living room while he waited for Vinz to come back from work, that had to mean he was still asleep right?

His breathing hitched in panic; had he slipped into a coma or some shit? Was he dead? _Did he seriously fucking die in his sleep for no reason at all?!_

 

“No, no, stop.” he hissed between clenched teeth, “C’mon Díaz, keep it together.”

This was fine. This was fine. He’s come close to dying once - _don’t linger on those thoughts_ \- and it sure didn’t feel like that back then. He was probably having a very vivid dream, or- what was it called? Lucid dreaming?

 

A deep, melodious rumble made him look up, and his jaw slackened in awe; an enormous, snowy white whale had appeared from behind the dune looming over him, and was now lazily gliding across the static-filled sky, filling the dry air with its bone-rattling chant.

 

Angelino crossed his arms and shrugged. “Yup! Definitely dreaming!” he laughed, a hint of hysteria bleeding into his tone. Guess this was his life now; trapped in an empty dreamscape with giant sealife floating overhead like overinflated balloons. And a weird rock.

 

He blinked, eyes trailing over the dark shape a few meters away. Huh. Nevermind then, not a rock.

 

It was a man. And a tall one at that.

He was sitting with his back to the hybrid, quiet and still, his incredibly muscular frame stretching his black shirt to its limits, long ebony hair slowly blowing in the dry desert wind.

Angelino stayed still, considering his options. He was dreaming, so the figure probably wasn’t a real person, but something about that mane of thick, black hair and those bulging muscles felt incredibly familiar. Still, whatever he was real or not, it was probably safer to sneak away before he inevitably fucked up and got himself noticed-

 

“Hey.”

 

_Well fuck me then._

 

The man was looking straight at him, his chiselled features smoothed into careful neutrality. His pupils - bright yellow among a sea of black - seemed to bore into his very soul, pinning him into place. He knew those eyes. He knew this person, somehow, yet the information kept eluding him.

It was like trying to grasp water. And it was pretty damn frustrating.

 

The giant cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then, something akin to recognition flashed through his eyes. “...You?”

Okay, something was up. Maybe this guy wasn’t a byproduct of his fucked up mind after all. “Uh… hi? Do I know you or something?”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, before slowly nodding. “Aye. We’ve met before.”

His voice, deep and gravely, had a heavy latin accent“Uh-huh, yeah, no kidding. But I can’t remember when or where and it’s highly annoying.” Lino growled. His mind was screaming something at him, focusing on the curiously black nose in the center of the man’s face. The sight evoked something else within him, a very distant and hazy memory. Close to home. “So, mind telling me how you’re in my head? You _are_ real, right?”

The man shrugged, clearly not feeling threatened in the least. “As real as you I guess.”

He got up, still watching the smaller dreamer with his piercing gaze. “I should ask you the same thing, _you_ ’re the one who plagued my dreams for years on end when I was young.”

 

Angelino blinked. That wasn’t the answer he expected. “What? What do you mean? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

The man sighed, shaking his head. God damn, that jaw could cut through glass. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say a lot of things make more sense to me now. What was with the pumpkin head anyway, kid?”

“The-”

Then it hit him with the force of a freight train. He remembered waking up screaming, back at the orphanage, after dreaming of a strange bulky man with a black nose and yellow eyes hitting him on the head. He took a step back, legs nearly buckling in disbelief.

“What the fuck?” he wheezed, “That was you? How? Why?!”

The other rolled his eyes. “As I said: it doesn’t matter. Could be a Macho thing for all I know.”

 

Lino just gaped at him, eyes widening. He thought -hoped- he’d never have to hear that word ever again. And from that guy’s mouth, of all things…

 

Wait.

 

“You know about this.” the hybrid mumbled, nails digging into his pitch black arms. For some reason, he didn’t feel it as sharply as before. “A-And you said we met before. So it wasn’t just in dreams, huh?”

The man’s demeanor shifted, from cold and confident to downright uncomfortable. “I’d… rather you don’t remember who I am. It’s simpler this way. Better.”

“Dude, what? Hell no, don’t give me that cryptic bullshit. I know it’s gonna eat at me until I remember, so just tell me already!”

The world was starting to get out of focus, his grip on his thoughts growing flimsier and flimsier. Was he waking up? _Fucking really? Now? Come on, I’m actually figuring out shit for once! Keep it together!_

“And I’m telling you, it’s not important!” the taller man barked out, “Just forget about me and get on with your life! And get that psychic shit under control, you better not get into my mind again or I swear to God, I’ll find you and kick your ass into next year!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” Angelino screamed. He couldn’t see or hear the man anymore his awareness fading. He felt like he was falling.

 

And then he woke up with a gasp, the heavy blanket surrounding him suddenly suffocating. The orange light of early winter morning filled up the living room, as well as the familiar smell of lightly-burned toast.

“Lino? You up bro?”

The hybrid sat up with a grunt. Dammit. Why couldn’t he get _one_ good night’s sleep? “Yah, yah. Mornin’.”

The hothead appeared in his vision, wearing a comfy-looking jacket. The air in the apartment had gotten chilly in the last few days, and both roomates prayed every divinity in existence each day for the hotel’s boiler not to die on them. “I made breakfast, if you’re feeling up to it.” Vinz gently proposed, sliding into the couch next to the halfling. Lino chuckled. “Yeah, I can smell it from here. Thanks Vinz.”

The skeleton’s eyes squinted in mirth, yellow flames burning bright. “Don’t mention it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ding dong the bitch isnt dead apparently. surprise!
> 
> So about whats going on in that chapter… it makes a lot more sense if youve read mfkz’s spinoff series Puta Madre. Its really good, its about El Diablo’s life story. also uh i reread the comics yesterday and i realized that lino and vinz have actual names??? Angelino Díaz and Vincent Scavo.  
> dunno if Díaz was his mom’s name or if they just gave him a generic one at the orphanage (most likely if you ask me), since latino/mexican culture is really heavily rooted in the part of DMC he grew up in. his mom’s name was Angela, so she might be of latino descent even if her movie design strikes me as caucasian??? Her comic design seems less white-coded too.  
> guess that would make Lino mixed race... eh? eeeeeeeh? *wiggle eyebrows*  
> also Scavo is apparently an italian surname (from an old sicilian word for slave). so Vinz might be of italian descent, how neat is that  
> the idea of an italian viz has me rofl for some reason  
> unless of course it was ALSO given to him at the orphanage… we need backstory for these boyz’ childhood real bad, the comic’s sequel can’t come fast enough xD GIVE US THE SWEET SWEET CONTENT, RUN!
> 
> anyway i like to think he and Vinz can understand (if not speak) spanish, it’s not that far-fetched given the cultural environment they lived in their whole lives.


End file.
